Page 4 of King of Lies (Mayhem Manuscripts Season One: 1nf3ction #6)

Keaton

I’d only stopped here because of the incoming rainstorm, the latent infection simmering in my blood making the risk of pushing on and getting caught in it too much of a risk.

Instead, I’d stumbled across a show. One that solved at least one of my problems. Or at least it would have had I possessed the money to join the bidding war.

Instead, I’d come up with a plan B. This plan had me slipping silently down an alleyway, my prey only a few meters in front of me. He was as oblivious to my presence as he’d been to me watching him all night.

I’d bided my time as he’d guzzled whiskey, knowing he wouldn’t spend the entire night there. I’d cursed the arrival of his friend for making things more complicated, and silently cheered when he left the bar on his own.

And now we were both here. Stepping silently.

Keeping to the shadows. Which surprised me.

I knew why I was, but it was less clear why my quarry was so determined to blend in with the night.

I had a feeling, though… call it gut instinct, if you like, that there was more to Tobias Breeze than the picture he’d painted, that beneath that pretty exterior something else lurked.

Something far more cunning, and the way he was tackling what should have been a short walk to his lodgings, supported that.

It didn’t concern me. He was thinner than I was, and far less muscular.

As an ex-soldier, my training had prepared me for far more formidable opponents than he.

If I could handle biters and come out victorious, then I had nothing to fear from a single man.

The scar just below my collarbone chose that moment to itch, as if it wanted to question my interpretation of victorious.

Yeah, there was that. I hadn’t quite escaped unscathed.

One slip-up when facing down a horde had left me carrying the virus in my blood.

Not fully turned, but a long way from immune.

And a soldier who lost themselves when they went out in the rain was a useless one.

That’s why I needed to get my hands on what Tobias had.

Or even better, find out the location of this super-secret laboratory.

If they could make a suppressant, then maybe they were also sitting on a cure.

Tobias turned to look over his shoulder, instinct sending me into a handy alcove between two walls before he completed the turn. His eyes darted from left to right, searching out what lay within the shadows. Had he heard me? Sensed me? Had I not been as quiet as I’d thought?

My initial plan when he’d turned into the alleyway had been to catch up to him, to grab him here and make him tell me what I wanted to know.

His awareness of his surroundings changed that.

There was too high a risk of him escaping my clutches.

I might be stronger, but I had no way of telling if he was faster.

I’d be patient instead. If I were lucky, he’d lead me straight to his stash of suppressants. I didn’t doubt that there were more. He didn’t have the air of a man who’d sold them all and had no more to give. Quite the opposite.

When Tobias started moving again, I let him pull a bigger gap, not slipping out of my hiding place until he was almost out of sight.

A drop of water on my hand had me searching the sky for signs of the rain starting up, but it had come from the guttering of a building.

Good. Because nothing ruined a plan like suddenly battling your own primal urges.

My body wouldn’t give a damn about suppressants if all it wanted to do was feed, fuck, and fight until the effects wore off in a few hours.

When Tobias let himself into the guesthouse, I stayed back.

I gave it twenty minutes before following him in.

The charm offensive I launched on the young receptionist barely out of her teens was laughably easy.

She swallowed my story of owing Tobias money and gave up his room number embarrassingly quickly, confused when I feigned surprise at the lateness of the hour and said I’d catch up with him in the morning.

I waited another hour after that, the rain holding off. There were two reasons to wait. Nothing fucked up a covert entrance into a room quite like the occupant still being awake, and the second was my intention to sneak past the receptionist without being seen.

The perfect moment arose when a pair of men headed for the door.

Their unsteady gait and none too tuneful, but very loud, singing highlighted their drunken state and presented the perfect distraction.

I followed them in, the perky receptionist too busy trying to persuade them to stop singing before the entire house woke up to see me let myself through the door at the back.

From there, it was two flights of stairs and along a corridor to the room number she’d given me earlier.

I stopped outside and listened. Nothing but silence.

A gentle snore would have been preferable, but I’d take silence as a close second.

I pulled out lock picks and went to work.

At least the army had taught me a few useful skills before finding me surplus to requirements.

The noise of singing drifted up the stairs, the receptionist having been unsuccessful in her attempts to get them to stop.

I froze as it grew louder, ready to step back from the door if they ventured into the corridor.

The noise reached a peak and then waned again as they continued on an upward trajectory past this floor.

In a few more seconds, I had the door open.

I pushed it as slowly as I could, smiling when luck was on my side and it didn’t creak.

Once I’d slipped inside, I closed it just as slowly.

The curtains were open, enough moonlight spilling into the room to illuminate the shrouded lump in the bed.

Easy fucking peasy. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

I pulled my knife out, the smooth contours of its handle reassuring. A crossbow was my preferred weapon of choice, but there were rules about what you could bring into communities, so I’d hidden it on the outskirts. I contemplated the prone lump in the bed as I stepped closer.

As long as he told me what I wanted to know, I didn’t mean him any harm.

If anything, this was his fault. What kind of idiot advertised having something valuable in front of an entire community?

He was lucky it was only me at his door.

Although it was possible, I was the first of many.

Which was a useful reminder to get on with it, find out what I wanted to know, and then leave.

One leap had me landing on the bed, thighs spread on either side of Tobias Breeze, ready to use them like pincers if he struggled. I knew immediately that something was wrong, the lump lacking substance and caving under my weight like no human body should. What the hell!

And that’s when the arm wrapped around my chest, tighter than any steel band as it pulled me back against him, the cold kiss of a blade coming to rest at my throat.

I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

A trick a teenager might pull when they wanted it to appear like they were still in bed.

He must have lain in wait in the corner the moonlight didn’t reach for me not to have seen him.

How stupid of me not to have checked. Anyone would think I was a damn rookie instead of a trained soldier.

“I think you have the wrong room, my friend. This one’s already occupied.” Each word sent a spurt of hot breath across my skin.

I went to swallow, aborting the movement at the last second for fear of it pushing my throat against the blade. I couldn’t see it, but it felt plenty sharp. “My apologies,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Release me and I’ll correct that oversight. My room must be next door.”

Tobias Breeze chuckled. “Simple mistake to make. Were you the priest with the long black beard? Or the elderly woman who barely reached my shoulder with the flowery dress? They were my neighbors last I checked. Perhaps you’re the priest’s illegitimate son?

Or the flowery lady’s current beau?” He left a space in case I had anything to comment.

I didn’t. It was impossible to know whether it was the truth or something he’d made up on the spot as a test. It was better to say nothing than to fail.

“And I won’t be releasing you until you drop the knife. ”

“I will,” I said, my fingers flexing around it. Yet, I didn’t. If I dropped the knife, this was all over. While it was still in my hand, I had a chance of turning the tables back in my favor.

“Drop it!” Tobias said, the warning in his voice telling me, if I hadn’t already worked it out, that I’d seriously underestimated him. “How about we both drop our weapons?” I suggested. “And have a conversation man to man.”

“My room. My rules,” was Tobias’ response. “I don’t think you’re in any position to bargain with me.” His wrist flexed, something wet trickling down my neck. Sweat, possibly. But more likely blood.

I did a quick calculation, deciding I had nothing to lose.

“You’re right,” I said, even as I prepared myself for a move I’d done hundreds of times since basic training.

I would be injured. There was no avoiding it, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

I brought my hand up, thrusting it between the knife and my throat.

The blade cut into my skin, but I was already using his surprise against him to twist out of his grip.

An elbow to the face had him stumbling backwards and bought me enough time to roll off the bed.

One smooth move had me back on my feet and facing him, knife still clutched in the hand that wasn’t bleeding.

A quick glance down confirmed I’d live, that no arteries had been severed.

It was going to make a mess of the carpet, but like Tobias had pointed out, it was his room, not mine.